[Author’s Note – this was the first short story that I wrote (in modern times, at least). It started from finding a writing prompt of “What if you lose your cell phone, call it, and someone answers?” I thought that finding a phone that wasn’t yours, but was in your pocket might be a more interesting tale to tell. And here’s the result.]
It had been a long day for Adrian Bridges. He considered, yet again, why he’d decided to take up auditing as a career. Sure, he enjoyed the few times when he’d found that one of the his clients’ employees was messing up with the record-keeping, but he had yet to have one where he could confront someone who was obviously embezzling from their company. When he was in college, he’d told one of his friends about how it was a dream to go storming into someone’s office, shaking the paper that proved they had stolen tens of thousands of dollars. His friend had laughed at him, telling him that he had to be kidding – things like that only happen in movies … and really bad movies at that.
He had not, then, been daunted, being sure the day would come.
Except, now, here he was, 37 years old, having spent almost fifteen years at it and had yet to find anything more than someone taking a lot of pencils home – and even that was only because they were providing them to their wife – a teacher. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to report it to the client, simply suggesting that they might want to consider finding alternate sources for office supplies so they could lower the costs.
Pulling into the parking space at the shopping mall, he tried to remember what size T-shirt his son, Brad, wore these days. Was it still a kids’ large, or was he fitting into an adult small? He’d finally achieved an A grade in Math for a quarter of the school year, so Adrian, as an appreciative dad, wanted to show that he’d done well by buying him a T-shirt with images from whatever video game Brad was playing these days. At one of the stores, he found a shirt that he was pretty sure Brad would like. Having done that, he started heading back towards the parking lot, not really paying attention to anything or anyone around him – until, that is, some guy bumped into him.
“Excuse me. I’m sorry – I didn’t see you there,” he apologized.
“Quite all right. It was my fault. I have not been here before, so I was not really paying attention and just looking around at all the stores. There are so many stores here.”
After that, the two of them walked away from each other, Adrian continuing on to the parking lot. Stepping out of the mall and heading towards his car, he thought how grateful he was the mall was on the way home, so it hadn’t required that much of an extra trip. He was pretty sure, if they noticed at all, his kids would just think there had been extra traffic. Isabel was sure to have dinner ready when he got home anyway.
He was about 30 feet away from his car when he heard what sounded like a phone ringing. He looked around, not seeing anyone nearby and trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. Then he realized that the ringing seemed to be coming from his jacket pocket on his right side. But that couldn’t be right, since it wasn’t the ringtone of his phone … and he was sure his phone was in his pants’ pocket – on his left.
Gingerly reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he found there was, indeed, a cell phone in there – and it didn’t feel at all like his. Pulling it out, the phone said the originating phone number was undisclosed. Swiping his thumb across the screen, he answered it, curious, “Hello?”
“Hello, Mr. Bridges.” The voice sounded strangely like the man who’d bumped into him in the mall.
“What? Who … Who is hell is this? And how do you know my name?” He started looking around the parking lot, trying to see if this was some sort of joke or if there was a camera filming him.
“You may call me … Ricard, Mr. Bridges. Or, may I call you Adrian?”
He was starting to get a little scared now. “No! You may not call me Adrian! Who the fuck are you and how did this phone get into my pocket?”
“Please calm down, Mr. Bridges. It was necessary to find a way to contact you that would be … less obvious, shall we say?”
“And just why the hell was it necessary to contact me at all?” Adrian’s fear was now turning into anger. “I’m going to just throw this damn thing away and I don’t want to hear from you again!”
“That would be a mistake, Mr. Bridges. After all, you would not want something to happen to your lovely wife, Isabel, would you? Or, perhaps, something to also happen to your children, Brad or Nicole? Especially now that Brad has finally gotten that math grade you were tutoring him towards for so long, yes?”
Adrian’s anger dissipated as he felt his stomach dropping out and the beginnings of nausea. Who was this man, and how did he know so much about his family?
“As I was about to say, Mr. Bridges. I have a very simple task that I need you to do … and in exchange for this, you and your family will get a trip to the beautiful island of Kierdove. All you need do is carry something for me to someone in Kierdove. Just think, Mr. Bridges – a one week vacation to a gorgeous island off the coast of South America! Is carrying one small thing really such a burden for that?”
“Wha… What do I need to carry?” Adrian was thinking about who he could contact about this … the police, or the FBI, or… But the phone started talking to him again.
“All that you need carry is a small envelope with a single piece of paper in it. There is nothing else. It is just that, well… it cannot be carried by myself or any of those who are known to be working with me. My … associates … did quite a bit of research and found that you would be an excellent person to assist us with this. And your passports are already in order. Your trip, last year, into Canada took care of that for your whole family, yes? Oh, and, should you contemplate telling anyone about this, let me just remind you that all of us would prefer that nothing happen to you, or your lovely wife or children, yes?”
“Ho…” He cleared his throat. “How will any of this happen?”
“By when you get home, you will discover your wife has received a phone call telling her about a vacation you have won – for you and her and your children – from a lottery that you entered and forgot to tell her about. Over the next week, you will receive all of the travel details. Included with those will be a sealed envelope labeled ‘From Ricard’. And, if you were to have any sort of inclination to open it – refrain from doing so. Again, please think of your family. I do assure you, there is nothing of value contained in the envelope, and what is on the paper would be meaningless to you.
“Now, before you get into your car to drive home, I will tell you all of the details of what you will need to do when you get there. We will go over them until you are able to recite them back to me, yes? Shall we begin?”
It had only taken 10 minutes for Adrian to memorize the instructions on what to do with the envelope. The mystery man, ‘Ricard’, had made it quite straightforward and simple. He was still terrified about what he was being coerced into doing.
As he pulled into the garage, the door to the house burst open and his daughter, Nicole, came screaming out through it. “Daddy! Daddy! Why didn’t you tell us about it?”
Stepping out of the car, he scooped her up into his arms. At 8 years old, she was still small enough that he could toss her over his shoulder and she giggled as he did so. “Tell you about what, cutie?”
“About the vacation! Mommy just got off the phone! When can we go? When can we go?”
“Calm down, Nikki. Let me talk with Mommy first so I know what the answer even can be, all right?”
He closed the garage door as he walked into the house. His wife, Isabel, was standing in the entryway, her hands on her hips, barely able to hide a smile. “Yes, ‘Daddy’ … Why didn’t you tell us all about it, hmmm?”
Leaning over to kiss her cheek, he said, “I’m sorry, dear. You know how these things are. Someone at one of my clients was asking everyone to donate. It was only a couple of bucks and they said part of it was for charity. I never win anything in my life, so I didn’t really think anything about it.”
He hated needing to hide the real story from his wife, but … Ricard, whoever that was, knew entirely too much about him and his family for there to be any thought of him endangering them if he could possibly avoid it.
Nikki was getting restless on his shoulder, so he swung her down and watched her run away as Isabel harrumphed, playfully, and seemed to forgive him.
“All right, Adrian. I guess I can’t complain too much if it was just a couple of dollars. And the guy on the phone said almost everything was covered – flight, hotel, and any meals we have at the hotel. Still, next time, at least tell me about it, so I don’t sound like a complete idiot? I’ve never even heard of … Kierdove? … before? What kind of a name is that for a country? I swear, I didn’t even know where it is. I felt so stupid asking and needing to have them tell me. But, you know … the school holiday vacation is coming up soon. It would be nice to get away to warmth and sunny skies and beaches.”
“All right, Izzy. And I promise I won’t enter something like this again without telling you about it, even if it’s after I’ve already bought the tickets. I barely even remember it now as it is. You probably know more details about it than I do if they called you to say that we won.”
“Yes, I do. But we’re going to have dinner and get the kids to bed before we talk about it any more.” She started walking towards the kitchen, exaggerating swaying her hips as she did. She looked back at him over her shoulder, “And you, sir, better be quite happy with whatever new swimwear I decide to purchase.” With a quick wink, she disappeared into the kitchen, and then shouted, “Everybody! Time to wash hands and get ready for dinner!”
A few days after the incident at the shopping mall, a package, stuffed full of papers, had arrived. It was a bunch of instructions – how to arrange for plane tickets, how to make reservations for the hotel they would be staying at – and travel pamphlets describing the “lovely island nation of Kierdove”.
There was, of course, also a sealed letter-size envelope with “From Ricard” typed on the front of it. He’d spent hours staring at it on his desk at home. The flap of the envelope was not only glued shut, but also had a wax seal on it. Holding the envelope up to a lightbulb had revealed absolutely nothing about what was inside, but it felt light enough he realized Ricard had probably been truthful and there was, most likely, only a single piece of paper inside it.
Reading through the pamphlet about Kierdove was much more informative. It was a small island, approximately 100 miles off the northeast coast of South America. It was not considered to be one of the Caribbean islands, although it was close. The only city of significance, which was the capitol as well as where the airport was located, was Fierté de la Mer. He’d had to look it up to discover that meant “Pride of the Sea”, although there was no explanation in the pamphlet for why it was named that. Much was made about how much the residents loved having tourists, supporting it with boats taking people to the bay and the ocean, open beaches and local arts.
It was when he did some additional research that he became a bit more nervous. According to the State Department there was a parliament but they just were a rubber stamp for whatever the king, Constantin Morineau, dictated. Constantin had risen to power about 5 years ago, after his father, Damien, had been assassinated – with the killer never having been found. Adrian found himself almost a little amused that King Morineau’s family was remarkably like his own – with his wife, Martina, a son, Armand, 12, like Brad, and a daughter, Lucette, who was 8, the same as Nicole.
There hadn’t been any direct flights to Fierté de la Mer, something the travel agent he’d called – someone working for Ricard? – had apologized for. The best they could do was a two hour stopover in Miami. Brad had brought his handheld game player to keep him occupied, while Nikki had her dolls … and tormenting both him and Isabel – something that they accepted as just part of what happens when you go on vacation with your kids.
They finally got there and landed at the Fierté de la Mer airport. Adrian was looking out the window as they taxied over to the terminal, seeing a truck with stairs driving towards the plane. He also saw what seemed to be quite a lot of soldiers or police standing around, all of them holding rifles or machine-guns and gulped, hoping that Isabel wouldn’t freak out about it. He turned to her, catching her attention and pointing out the window. She looked, saw the soldiers, then looked back at him and shrugged her shoulders as she tilted her head.
While doing the research, he’d told her about the political situation here, and she’d been somewhat unhappy, but accepted it. She had pointed out they were getting a free vacation and it wasn’t like they would let something happen to tourists from the United States, right? He’d felt himself go chill when she said that, wondering whether the envelope he would be carrying for Ricard would change that.
The door of the plane opened and he felt the sudden onslaught of heat and humidity, starting to sweat immediately. Brad tugged gently on his sleeve, “Dad, it’s a bit hot here. How long until we can get to some air conditioning?”
“I don’t know, kid. I’m hot, too. Right now, we’re at the mercy of the flight attendants until they let us off and into the terminal.” Brad accepted that answer and turned back to his video game, ignoring everything else around him.
Adrian had felt nervous the whole time walking through the terminal at the airport and passing through customs. What if they found the envelope that he’d stuffed into his suitcase, hidden, barely, inside one of his shirts? Who was Ricard and would an envelope that clearly stated it was from him be a problem? He had visions of all of the armed soldiers around them suddenly surrounding him and his family and dragging them off to be thrown into dark cells.
He needn’t have worried, though. Customs merely asked if they had anything to declare, someone else had stamped all of their passports and, with large smiles that were clearly false, welcomed them to Kierdove, saying that they hoped they enjoyed their stay.
Once through with that, there had been a man, in a very loose t-shirt, slacks, sunglasses, and what seemed to be a chauffeur’s hat, standing with a sign that said “Bridges family”. After Adrian said they were, indeed, the Bridges family, the man introduced himself as Bernard and said he was their driver to take them to their hotel. It was a short walk to the parking lot and then to Bernard’s car – a beaten-up old, black Buick that seemed to be at least twenty years old and had definitely seen better days. Bernard held the doors open for Isabel and Nicole, bowing for her, causing the girl to giggle as she climbed into the car. Brad, meanwhile, was still barely paying attention, his head almost continuously down, staring at his game.
“It is only a few minutes to the hotel, Mr. Bridges.” Bernard laughed. “You could walk it, if you wanted the exercise, especially on a cool day like today!”
“Cool?” Adrian asked. “This is a cool day? I’m dying in this heat!” He pulled at his shirt. “Look at how much I’m sweating!”
“Ah. This is nothing. It is only 32 degrees today! Usually – much warmer this time of year.”
Adrian grumped, but Bernard turned the air conditioning up higher, pointing the vents towards his passenger.
The first full day on Kierdove was spent with the four of them lounging in and around the pool at the hotel. Brad and Nicole kept leaping into the water, seeing how big a splash they could make, and playing with some of the other children who were staying at the hotel. Isabel divided her time between laying on a lounge chair, soaking up the sun, and splashing around with their kids. Adrian discovered that drinks were included in what was covered by Ricard’s vacation ‘package’, and, so, started drinking early, stating, “It’s after 5 somewhere, right?” He kept doing so, slowly and steadily, throughout the day.
The next day, after breakfast, Isabel said she had spoken to the concierge and she and the kids wanted to go to one of the boats in the port to take a trip out into the bay and beyond, so they could go swimming and snorkeling in the Atlantic Ocean – something none of them had ever had a chance to do. Adrian thought about it, realizing this might be a chance for him to get Ricard’s task taken care of. He apologetically said he was wasn’t really feeling all that well and was a bit afraid of getting seasick.
On hearing that, Isabel muttered under her breath, “After all that drinking yesterday, I’m not surprised,” but agreed that he could stay at the hotel while she took Brad and Nicole to the port.
As soon as Isabel had packed up swimwear and towels for herself and the kids, they left the room. Waiting a few minutes to make sure they were gone, Adrian peeked out the door, to verify they had, indeed, left. Seeing the hallway empty, he then dug through his shirts in the dresser to find the envelope tucked in there. He pulled it out, slipping it into the pocket of his shorts, and then it was his turn to leave the room, mentally going through Ricard’s instructions.
Go to the concierge and ask if there is any market nearby – somewhere to buy mementoes of your visit.
The concierge replied, “Ah, yes, sir. There is an arts and crafts market that it just a few minutes’ walk away. Shall I call for a driver? Or if you would prefer to walk, I can get a guide to show you the way.”
“No, no – it’s all right. I’m fine with walking.” God, thought Adrian. Someone to go along with him was definitely not what he wanted. “I’m sure a map with directions will be more enough.”
“Very well, sir.” A map appeared from beneath the counter and a highlighter traced the route to get there.
At the market, find a craftsman with small wooden statues of primitive hunters, painted turquoise, gold, and red.
The market was clearly intended more for tourists than for local residents. Adrian saw many artists and other craftsmen there, of various types, with paintings, jewelry, and all sorts of other odds-and-ends throughout the marketplace. Finally, he saw a table with small wooden statues, maybe four inches or so tall, carved to represent men with spears and bows. The statues were all painted with the colors he was looking for.
Pick up one of the statues and say you think your mother had one that looked just like it.
“Really, monsieur? Then, she must have visited our wonderful island.”
He will suggest you buy one for her.
“Please! You must do your mother the benefit of bringing her another!” The craftsman picked up one from the side of the table, a man with a spear that looked indistinguishable from any of the others just like it. “This, sir, is one of my best ones. And, for your mother … I will make you an offer. Only ten dollars! For your mother to have this to go with the one she already has, non?”
Take the statue he gives you, paying him with the envelope.
“Yes, I think my mother would like this one to go with hers. Ten dollars, you say? Very well.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the envelope, handing it to the craftsman, getting the statue in exchange.
“Thank you, monsieur! Thank you so much. I am sure your mother will appreciate it!”
That is all you must do. The rest of your time on the island is your own.
Adrian walked away, carrying the statue, and realizing he had no bag or anything else to use to carry it. It was just big enough to be slightly uncomfortable carrying it, so he decided to head back to the hotel. That way, he wouldn’t have to carry it for any longer than was absolutely necessary.
Back at the hotel, Adrian went to their room, setting the statue on the top of the dresser. Staring at it, he suddenly realized he would need some way to explain the statue to Isabel and the kids. Maybe that he’d felt a little restless and went out for a walk? And, then, while he was out, it caught his eye?
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Looking around, he realized the beds had not yet been made, and he thought it would be housekeeping. “Yes? Who is it?”
“Royal Security Force, Monsieur Bridges. Please open the door.”
Adrian suddenly felt himself go numb. There was another knock on the door. “Please, monsieur, open the door … now!”
He walked stiffly over to the door and opened it. There were two uniformed men there with a third, shorter, one, standing in front of them. The third man was dressed in a tan blazer, with a white shirt and turquoise tie. He was, maybe, an inch or so shorter than Adrian, with short black hair and a very tight goatee. The most remarkable feature about him, though, was his eyes. They were steel grey … and seemed to be absolutely cold. He was holding up a badge.
“Mathias Gerbaud, monsieur, Director of the Royal Security Force. May we enter, please?” He and one of the two uniformed men did so without waiting to be invited. The uniformed man walked over to the window, looking out for a moment then returning his attention to the inside of the hotel room, while the other stood just inside the door. Gerbaud went over to the dresser, picking up the wooden statue before sitting in the only chair in the room, next to the dresser.
“Wha … What can I help you with, sir? I and my family are just visiting Kierdove on vacation.”
“Yes, yes. I know that you are here as tourists to our lovely country. But, today, I find myself puzzled by things that do not quite make sense. And, unfortunately, you, monsieur, are at the center of my puzzlement.”
“I am? How could I possibly have done anything that involves the … Royal Security Force, you said?”
“Well, monsieur, it is very simple, actually.” Gerbaud waved the statue. “The man who carves these – he works for me. He is a … how do you say? Informateur? Informant? Yes? I pay him to inform me whenever he might find something that would be of interest to me.”
Adrian sat down on the edge of the bed, still looking at Gerbaud. “Yes? So, how does this involve me?”
“Well, monsieur…” Adrian could feel Gerbaud’s steel grey eyes drilling through him. “I am quite puzzled about why it is that a tourist would pass an envelope to my informant. And then, this man that I pay… he would not find this of interest to me.” Adrian’s stomach clenched. “Not only that, but then, only a minute or two after you gave him an envelope for this carving,” Mathias waved the statue again. “Just after that, he found it necessary to leave the marketplace. He did not even bother to collect his other statues and pack his things. He simply … left.
“Why, monsieur, do you suppose he might have done that? Do you see the source of my puzzlement?”
“I … I have no idea what you’re…”
“Please, Monsieur Bridges… Do not waste your time, or my time. You were clearly seen handing him something other than money for this statue. And, as best anyone could see, it was an envelope. So, perhaps you would care to tell me why it is that you have done this?”
“It wasn’t…” Adrian felt anything he might think to say disintegrating under Gerbaud’s eyes and fear gripping him. He buried his face in his hands and started to sob. “He threatened my wife and children!”
“Ah, and we start to get somewhere! Who is it that threatened your family? Please tell me what happened and, perhaps, we will be able to … how do you say? Sweep this under the carpet?”
Adrian told him the whole story – starting with the man bumping into him in the shopping mall, continuing through the phone in his pocket and the phone call, then the call his wife received, ending with the whole vacation package.
“How very interesting. I have never heard of this … Ricard … and have no idea who he is. And I think, from what you have said, you do not know who he is either. This does not cure my puzzlement.”
“Please! I’ve told you everything I know. I don’t know why he picked me, or anything… My wife and children will be back here soon. They had nothing to do with this!”
“Oh, I believe you, monsieur. But, I do not know what was in this envelope you gave to this man I thought worked for me. And that concerns me. It leaves me being unsure what to do … and what to do with you.”
Adrian started to shake. “To … do with me?”
“Yes. I could, of course, arrest you for being involved in some sort of international espionage.”
Adrian’s mouth dropped open. “I … think I need to call the American consulate.”
“No, no … I do not think this will be necessary. Not just now, that is.” Gerbaud stood up, tapping the wooden statue against the palm of his other hand. “You are not to speak to anyone about this or, of course, pass over any other information to anyone else. Should anyone else contact you while you are here …” He handed over a business card. “You will, of course, contact me immediately, yes?”
Adrian took the card, putting it into his pocket, “Yes … yes! Of course! Thank you! Thank you!”
“Non, monsieur. Please, do not thank me. It is my duty to ensure the safety of the royal Morineau family. And, so long as it does not conflict with that, it is good to make sure that our visitors enjoy our lovely island, without any other problems, yes?”
Saying that, Gerbaud took the wooden statue, waved to the two uniformed men and the three of them moved toward the door, As he was about to go through the door, Gerbaud paused and looked back at Adrian, “Oh, and please rest assured – there will be men watching you … and your family … for the rest of your time on Kierdove. Do not disappoint me in your … diligence … about reporting anything that might happen, yes?”
With that, all three of them walked out of the hotel room, leaving Adrian standing by himself, shaking as he thought about how else that conversation might have turned out. For a moment, he almost laughed, realizing that at least he wouldn’t have to explain the wooden statue to Isabel or the kids.
After that, Adrian sat in the same chair that Gerbaud had been using, thinking about how badly he had been used by Ricard and contemplating what he could possibly do. A couple of hours later, Isabel and the children returned. The kids were happy, laughing and bouncing around. She was happy, too, until she saw him, sitting in the very dimly lit room. “Hey, honey. It’s too bad you didn’t feel like coming. It was so beautiful out there, and the water…”
Nicole climbed onto one of the beds, and began to jump up and down. “Oh, yeah, daddy! You could see through the water! I went swimming all by myself in the ocean! With a snulker!”
Brad, trying to show off to his parents and put down his sister at the same time, said, “That’s ‘snorkel’, Nikki! God! You don’t even know what it’s called!”
Hearing that, Nicole stopped jumping up and down, running over to Adrian and climbing onto his lap. “Daddy! I remembered it as best I could! Tell Brad to stop making fun of me!”
Adrian gave his daughter a tight hug, squeezing the breath out of her. “Brad… please? Maybe Nikki just didn’t hear what it’s called, all right? You know better than that. ”
“Fine, dad. Whatever.” Brad flopped on his back onto one of the beds, then rolled over. “Hey, mom, are we going to go eat soon?”
“Yes, I think so … if your father is feeling better …” She looked at him and Adrian nodded his head, indicating that he was. “We can head down to dinner … after you get changed out of your swim trunks. Now, go! Into the bathroom and get changed. Then Nikki, and then me, and then we can go eat. Ok? Move!”
For the rest of the week, Adrian tried his best to stay involved with his family and at least appear to enjoy their vacation. The concierge arranged for a guide to walk around the city with them, pointing out historical monuments and notable landmarks. As they walked, Adrian continued to feel nervous, looking around, trying to see who might be watching him, and praying that no one would try and contact him about Ricard.
Another day, a bus tour out of the city showed them the farms and fields that covered much of the rest of the island and included a stop at a small village filled with craftspeople, making all sorts of paintings, sculptures, ceramics and other artwork. They had not been told about the trip to the village, leaving Adrian terrified that he might see someone selling small hunter carvings – painted turquoise, gold and red.
Based on the recommendation of another family at the hotel during dinner one evening, Adrian and Nicole insisted the children accompany them on a visit to the Kierdove National Museum, allowing them to learn more about the history of Kierdove and Fierté de la Mer – which had been called Fierté de Tueurs (Pride of Killers) before it was officially declared as the capitol of Kierdove. There was, however, no explanation for the original name … or why it was changed.
Brad and Nicole, having behaved reasonably well during the museum trip, asked to go back into the ocean, snorkeling and swimming with the fish in the clear waters. Adrian happily went along this time, realizing that being far away from any of the other islanders or possible observers was exactly what he wanted. He joined his family in the water, splashing around as well, and being truly happy for the first time during their trip.
He enjoyed it so much, in fact he insisted they do it again on their last day before returning home. As the boat they were on was pulling into the dock at the marina, he thought he saw Mathias Gerbaud standing on the next pier over, but, taking a second look, there was no one there.
The day to leave had finally arrived, and Adrian was feeling a bit more relaxed since nothing else had happened. His children were happy with the vacation they’d had, both having gotten tans that they wanted to show off on returning to school. Isabel talked about how nice their week had been, before saying, “All right. If someone else comes to you about one of these vacation lotteries, I guess it would be all right to enter it.”
Adrian twitched a little at that, causing her to ask, “Is something wrong, dear?”
“No, no, Izzy. It’s all right. Just thinking about how this means I’m going to be getting back to work in another couple of days.”
“Ah, yeah. I know. Vacation time is always so nice. It’s perfect for just forgetting about any possible concerns or worries or anything else.”
Just then, there was a knock on their door. Adrian practically jumped into the air before calling out, “Who is it?”
“Mr. Bridges, sir? Your car is ready to take you to the airport now. I’m here to bring your luggage downstairs.”
Isabel chimed in, “All right! We’re just about packed up,” and walked over to open the door for the bellhop to enter and start putting their bags on the cart.
Downstairs, after checking out, they saw that Bernard was, again, their driver. “So,” he said with a giant grin on his face, “Bridges family! Is this not a beautiful island? And, of course, you had a wonderful time!” He laughed and then started to put their bags into the car.
It was another uneventful trip out to the airport. While there, waiting to get their boarding passes and go out to the plane, Adrian kept looking around, feeling like there were more uniformed men present than when they had first arrived.
“Izzy? Are there more officers here? Or is it just my imagination?”
She patted him on the arm. “I’m sure you’re imagining it, dear. They’re just being careful and protecting everyone, right?”
“Yes, you’re right. I guess I’m just a bit distracted thinking about going back to work.”
On the way back, they had a four hour stop at Miami. Almost as soon as they stepped off the plane, Nicole started saying that she was hungry and wanted to eat.
Isabel looked at Adrian, saying, “She’s right, dear. They didn’t really have more than some light snacks on the plane. I could do with something to eat as well. We barely spent anything for the whole week, so it wouldn’t be so terrible to have something to eat somewhere here in the terminal.”
Adrian, feeling much more relaxed now that he was closer to home, agreed. “Yeah, we can do that.” He gently elbowed his son. “What about you, Brad? You feeling like some lunch?” Brad shrugged, back to being focused on his video game.
Walking through the terminal, Isabel pointed to a restaurant that also had televisions showing a variety of sports and news. “Let’s go there? They look like they’ll have hamburgers or something that all of us would want to have to eat.”
After being seated at a table and ordering, Adrian looked up at one of the televisions and something caught his eye. “Turn the volume up on that one!” he shouted, pointing to a news channel.
“… repeat that there has been an explosion just outside of the palace in Fierté de la Mer, on the island of Kierdove. It appears that the king, queen, and both of their children have been killed in the explosion. In a statement released by Mathias Gerbaud, the Director of the Kierdove Royal Security Force, he assures everyone that an investigation has already been started and the person or persons responsible will be found and prosecuted.
“In related news, the parliament of Kierdove has declared the nearest relative to the deceased king, Constantin Morineu, is a cousin, currently in the United States as a consul. He has already been formally recognized as being next in line to the throne, and Gilbert Ricard Leclair has said he will be flying back to Kierdove as soon as possible to be coronated …”
